Number One
by sleepyyweepy
Summary: The reader wants to join Tom Riddle's group of elites. The stipulation? Beat him in a game of Wizard Chess. Young!Tom Riddle x Reader. Oneshot.


You were a smart girl; you would've been the brightest in your year if it weren't for Tom Riddle. Riddle managed to surpass you in every subject, albeit just barely. While he had never been anything less than polite to you, you would tend to be a little snappy after you received your respective test scores. Perhaps it was because of this that, despite your best efforts, he wouldn't let you join his group.

It was known throughout Hogwarts that if you were in Riddle's group of elites, you were better off. Riddle was favored by the Professors, the exception being Dumbledore, and the Headmaster. He had the admiration of his peers, especially the women. By extension, his "friends" also received special treatment.

Now, standing outside the Slytherin Common Room, you wondered if this last-ditch effort would do little more than piss him off. You had tried being the sycophant, which had obviously gotten you nowhere, so you were trying a different, more direct approach. So there you were, in the dungeons, stuck in your thoughts, trying to gather some confidence before you approached Riddle. He had a way of making you feel inferior just by looking at you.

Suddenly, the door to the Slytherin Common Room swung open. Abraxas Malfoy was there, looking smug.

"Are you going to come in or just stand there all day?" He said, sneering at you. Your face reddened, but you didn't dwell on his insult. Rather, you brushed past him quickly, slipping into the room, your eyes searching for Riddle.

You found him quickly, lounging on a plush green chair. Though he was seated in the corner of the room, you could tell he was the leader, as all the Slytherins in the room had their bodies turned towards him; the king. Lestrange was seated across from him, a chess board situated on a small table in between them.

You had clearly caught the end of their game, entering the room just as Riddle was lazily calling out "checkmate" while a crimson bishop violently smashed a black rook. Lestrange looked humiliated. Riddle made no move to acknowledge you; he didn't even bother to turn his head.

"To what do I owe the _pleasure_?" The inflection he put on the word pleasure made it clear that he considered your presence anything but.

As confidently as you could, you said, "I'd like to ask again to join your group. The Knights of Walpurgis, I believe you're calling it?" He finally turned to you, the dark abyss of his black orbs meeting yours.

"Haven't I told you? You're of no use to me." He drawled, his lip slightly upturned. You kept a straight face, but your cheeks reddened, betraying you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before your reply.

"You and I both know that I'm worth a thousand of the useless idiots following you around, Riddle." Your voice sounded surprisingly calm, considering you were bracing yourself for complete and utter mortification

"Is that so?" Despite the poisonous reply you were expecting from him, he only sounded amused. "Come over here and prove it."

"How?" All confidence gone, not understanding in the least what he was expecting you to do, your reply came out as a whisper and was audibly shaky. He nodded to the chess board between him and Lestrange.

"Prove you can finally beat me at something." His comment caused your entire face and neck to redden; that was a sore spot and he knew it. He smirked. Lestrange moved so you could take his place, eager for everyone to forget his own disgraceful defeat.

"I don't have my set." You said, matter-of-factly, looking straight into his dark eyes and taking a seat in the chair once occupied by Lestrange.

"Malfoy, let her play with yours." Abraxas looked appalled.

"M-my Lord?"

"Don't act stupid, Malfoy. Go get them." Tom said sharply, causing Abraxas to visibly pale.

When Malfoy handed her his snow white pieces, head down, you could immediately see why he was so hesitant to let you use them; they were clearly brand new. Though any damage to the pieces could be repaired with magic, they had a sentience that affected gameplay. If they mistrusted their owner, they would have a more difficult time playing with them. Since they had most likely never been used, losing this game would be catastrophic for the relationship between Malfoy and his pieces.

There wasn't a single sound uttered from either of you while they set up the board, each of you placing your pieces in silence while contemplating your strategies.

"Ladies first." He said smugly, as if he had won already. It really pissed you off.

You jumped immediately into the game, not bothering with small talk, only speaking to tell your respective pieces where to move. Tom's pieces followed his instructions without protest; they clearly trusted their master. Malfoy's set, having never been used, had nothing to say.

Each played a merciless game, you so relentlessly that Tom had quickly shed his previously bored stance, and was now leaning forward in his seat, hands clasped in front of him. You could see Malfoy flinch every time Riddle smashed one of your white pieces.

The game was nearing its end and you had begun to lose. You could see the amusement glint in his eyes; it spurred you on. It only took three more moves before Tom softly called out "checkmate" as his blood red queen shattered your snow white knight. Abraxas looked like he could cry. You dipped your head in shame.

There was a long silence before Tom said, in that superior tone of his, "Second best, as always, it seems."

"I've never claimed to be better than you, Riddle. Let me play any one of your followers and there would be no competition." You said, quietly, peeking up through your lashes to see a satisfied expression on his face.

"I have no doubt about that. Welcome to the Knights of Walpurgis." Your head shot up, your eyes searching his for any sign he was making fun of you.

"T-thank you!" You said, getting up to leave and scrambling to the door before he could change his mind.

"Oh, and one other thing." He said, softly.

"Yes?"

"Never forget who's number one."

After you left, Abraxas walked over to his decimated pieces.

" _Reparo._ " He muttered sourly.

"Problem, Malfoy?" Tom said, raising his eyebrows.

"She could've won. She had you halfway through the game, all she had to do was make one move with her rook and you would've been in checkmate." He said, looking down at the board darkly.

"Yes, I rather think she'll be a good addition to our little … _group_. She certainly has my attention."


End file.
